


The Girl Named Adora

by AmericanNiemand



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora is a mix of her actual self and she-ra, All the time, As characters appear in the story they'll be added to the list, Fantasy AU, I uhh, Kinda ooc for some, Magic, Multi, best i could do for the rest, but she is a 6'4" badass who could kill a mountain, don't really know what else to say, really ooc for others, so no she isn't an 8 foot tall warrior goddess half the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmericanNiemand/pseuds/AmericanNiemand
Summary: (Narrator is a Bard-esque individual telling the story around a nighttime fire.)I must admit. I heard this story secondhand from a rather drunk fellow one night at the bar. But I've heard tell of such things before and since.It is well known, that the lands we live once held great heroes and rulers. But there are still those I have not told you about.This is the story of Adora, the kidnapped Princess of the Mountains.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 20





	1. The Headwaters

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There was nothing particularly important or even unique about the child, except the way she hunched over when she walked. In fact, despite being rather young if you saw her walking you may have thought her to be peculiarly old. 

As reality would have it the girl was tall, but then no taller than a mountain, and so I suppose a giant might call her short, but no shorter than an anthill. She had broad shoulders when she wasn't bent over at the ribcage, and her face was... odd. Her smile was crooked in the teeth, broken in the lips, and never quite reached her eyes, so she spent much of her time frowning, which most people take a general distaste to. It is because of this that she often walked staring at the ground. Her hands while not overly large were powerful, yet nimble enough to play even the most stubborn piano. She had a great many friends, but then a great many more enemies. She was kind and caring, but vicious and brutal. She was as fair as even the most highly regarded saints. Above all things, Adora was loved by any who met her, as they declared her perfection to be unending, but then only so far as the world remains I suppose. I've always found it odd though, that they should proclaim such passionate love to someone that treated them with cold indifference and looked so much like the beggars they despised. But perhaps that was the magic of Adora. I'm afriad we'll never know for sure.

Two people called themselves friends above all others to Adora, and their names were Glimmer and Bow.

The histories are conflicted about Glimmer. Some say she was born in the night and glowed with the flickering light of a star. Some believe she was utterly normal and was so treated to being nameless until her fifth birthday when her smile lit the darkest night with a crescent of magic. I am personally fond of the notion that her skin was marked in much the same way that you and I have freckles, shaped as stars though, and connected with a faint webbed veining, that emanated an odd aura which allowed sight in darkest caverns.

Bow was a farmhand, raised by two fathers in a family of fifteen. Each of his twelve siblings were given normal names, and indeed his fathers' were quite common in the lands. It is because of this that most believe his name to be a well meant stand in. A nickname I suppose. It was well earned however, as stories and fables declare his prowess with such an instrument to be unequaled. It is said by some, he was the greatest archer to ever live, and who ever will live. He came from across the sea when he was a boy, so that his father's might open a library. Their previous residence had burned to the ground, ruined by pillagers, in a city named for the greatest conqueror to ever live. But the name is now lost to time, as all things eventually are. It is lucky for us though, that the library of George and Lance still stands to this day, even if it is somewhat infested with small vines.

There are a great many more people of at least vague and varying importance. Scorpia the lost princess of the desert. Mermista, the ruler of the seas. Perfuma, who held sway over all plants. Frosta who brought the chill of winter wherever she went. The list goes on, but I won't bore you. In due time you shall meet everyone who made their mark upon the histories.

There is however one other I shall tell you of before we truly begin. His name was Hordak, and he ruled half the continent we live upon. He adopted Adora, who was parentless by her seventh birthday. It is unknown why he did this exactly. Perhaps he was taken with the magic of the child as all people were. I have always believed he saw in her the greatest weapon in the history of war.

His body was held together through magic and automatons having been maimed brutally by his brother. He was still one of the fiercest warriors to ever descend upon a battlefield, in spite of his shortcomings. He was intelligent too, an accomplished scientist in his own right.

He was feared though... by most who lived here. His hunger for power overshadowing any other's, who have come and gone in the histories of Etheria.

Nearabouts the birth of Adora, the strange girl from a far off land another was born here, in the land as old as time. Two human parents welcomed to the world a girl who was indeed half human, but indeed half cat. Her mother was executed for witchcraft and adultery as soon as fur began to grow from her arms and legs, and her father took to drowning his poor spirits in the spirits of the near breweries.

The half cat girl was given nothing but a name, and a poor one at that. The locals called her Catra, thinking themselves quite clever at the time. The rumors of the human girl born half cat spread to the farthest reaches of the world. Her ears pointed, but then, not so sharp as an elf's, should they exist, so they might be called round, as a tide swept pebble. Sharp claws that shone bright in moonlight, but then, not so bright as a blade, so a smith might call them dull. A tail that danced, but then not so lively as a flame, and so a tavern-owner might call it soulless. Stories and rumors began spreading, for the townsfolk of Catra's home gossiped, as any good townsfolk might.

Far away, in a mountain castle, a great Sorceress heard tell of such things, and rode forth on chariot of thunderstorms to claim the girl. I suppose I ought to tell you her name for this to be a proper story, but I dare not. Though the Sorceress is dead now for one hundred years names hold power, and it is best to leave such things alone. I am content with merely being a whisper in the night, if it means we can sleep soundly in our beds.

This Sorceress rode for seven days and seven nights over the seven mountain-spines to reach the little village where Catra had lived her short life. It is here that we begin and on the eve of Catra's seventh birthday. In the life of all, I suppose it would hardly seem appropriately placed, to begin such a grand adventure, but then even the mightiest rivers have headwaters that are but a trickle.

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The old Sorceress stretched strenuously, desperate to drive away the stiffness of riding that afflicted her. The sun hung low in the sky, beginning to kiss the top of the horizon, and casting long tongues of orange and red across the heavens.

Behind her her steeds whinnied, each sounding as a shattering crack of thunder. She turns and smiles at them, now muttering an incantation of sorts, long lost to time.

"Go now and rest, until I have need of you once more,"

The horses made of flickering thunder clouds reared upon their hind legs and dashed up and away, hooves digging into empty air, and yet carrying them toward the heavens. The Sorceress returns to her casting of glances through the trees. They were hiding something, of that she was certain. Which meant the girl was nearby.

She strides forth, taking long sweeping steps, coming to a stop before the greatest oak she could find.

"Relinquish her to me," the Sorceress said, voice even. It is prudent to be polite while dealing with one as stubborn as an oak. You could perhaps get away with insolence when dealing with a birch or a pine I suppose... but then it is unwise to try.

The language of the trees is long lost, so I'm afraid I do not know how it is the tree responded. Perhaps a shaking of the leaves, or a quiver of it's branches. Perhaps it simply spoke in its own bizarre tongue. But its meaning is still remembered, here.

"Leave dark witch. You will not find what you seek,"

"You have no idea what it is I desire," the Sorceress responds, politeness gone. This was her mistake I'm afraid. To be so rude to an elder oak.

"The wind speaks to us all. Even the far oceans have heard tell of your search in vain,"

"The wind lies, you should know this better than any. Why was it that all your kind grew roots in the first place?"

"The early autumn breeze lies. And the howling spring gales will stir up any who listen, with half truths. But the winds whose company I keep have no desire to lie. They move too fast to have the time and too slow to have the arrogance. Turn back now witch. The Old One commands it,"

The Sorceress flinched, obviously taken aback. "I will take her by force if I must, _Old One_ ,"

The tree laughed, as well as a tree can laugh I suppose and replied "Not even the mountains have lived so long as the Old One. She is my master, and this is the debt I owe. If you are to kill me then kill me, and I will be free. But know that as you raise a hand against me, you raise a hand against yourself. Each tree that dies tonight shall visit upon you vengeance tenfold more. Each leaf that falls, each branch that burns, and each plant that withers. You shall be their home in the next life. May they claw their way forth from your skin, roots dug deep, into the freedom of sun. For each wound you inflict, may you die a hundred deaths clinging desperately to the life you've so thoroughly wasted,"

"As long winded as any of your cousins I see," the Sorceress was scared, but she could not show it. She'd read of this Old One somewhere, of that she was certain. But where? And to what end?

The old oak remained silent, and the Sorceress grew frustrated. Eventually her patience failed her, and so she summoned great balls of fire within her palms. With a shout the forest erupted in blazing light, though the flames parted around the sorceress. As she walked she spoke spells of silencing and spells of finding, her steps careful, lest a root appear and lay her low in the the flames of her own creation.

It isn't known how long she searched for the girl. Some believe it to have been within the hour, though some argue it took months. It is known however the fire raged for 77 days and 77 nights.

The wind carried the smoke past two oceans, and the screams of the dying trees fell on any ear still able to listen. The forest which had once covered more land than even the kingdom of Hordak himself had stood for many millennia, but here it was laid low, and ash is all that remained.

Regardless of how long the Sorceress searched, she eventually came upon the girl. She smiled broadly, happily. "Hello there little one. You shouldn't be here, the forest is burning after all. You don't want to burn with the forest do you?"

"The village doesn't want me. I want to stay with the trees. They've been kind to me,"

"I'm very sorry to hear that little one. Is there no one else who cares for you?" the Sorceress asked, still smiling.

"No one," the little girl said challenging this odd woman before her. She wanted no one, and had long before people had stopped wanting her.

"Oh poor thing. Could you give me your name then little one. We can leave this place together, and go somewhere people will care about you,"

"My name is Catra," the girl said, and a horrendous smile fell upon the Sorceress' lips.

"It's wonderful to meet you meet you Catra," the Sorceress said, voice altogether hostile, and the girl shivered, now thoroughly uneasy. Her fur stood on end and her tail puffed up big. She wanted to run she decided. It felt as though lightning was about to rain down upon her. But she also wanted to stay. This voice in her head was foreign, but it was in her head after all. It had to be friendly to have taken residence there.

"Can you help the trees?" Catra asks voice small, as a bead of dew upon mourning grass.

The Sorceress laughed "I tried my best little one, but they were very stubborn, and refused my help,"

Catra frowns, but lifts her hand to take the Sorceress' outstretched palm. The trees she knew were never stubborn. The swayed and moved like an ever changing river.

The two left the forest quite carefully, for the Sorceress had to check each step for tendrils of green. The oak's warning still hung about her like fog, clouding her mind. When they emerged their clothing was stained gray and their faces looked as corpses might.

With a shrill whistle the Sorceress calls her steeds, which appeared in the blink of an eye.

"Do not be afraid little one. They are gentle as the summer breeze," the Sorceress smiles, affectionately. The worry in Catra's gut seemed to ease.

Together they clamber upon a chariot made of storm clouds and whisk off into the dying light of a late autumn eve. The Sorceress happy, as the girl's name was finally hers.

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	2. Adora and Catra

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Princess Adora (who was indeed a princess however much she hated it) stood before a set of oak doors, as massive as a war engine, and squared her shoulders. Despite how comfortable it was to walk slouched over, her father Lord Hordak demanded unyielding strength. She resigned herself to discomfort for this particular meeting.

With a huff of air she pushes the two doors open, which were magically lighter than they looked, and enters the throne room. It was spartan inside. Two pyres alit with magic flames that burned all day and all night. Crimson banners hung along the wall, bearing the mark of their family crest. And at the center sat the king, Lord Hordak. His eyes glowed red, having been sliced out ages ago, now replaced with magic.

"Adora,"

"Greetings Lord Hordak," Adora bowed deeply, arms perfectly straight and parallel to her sides. She remained, waiting.

"Rise," Hordak's voice hummed through the walls, and Adora did as he said. "What news do you bring me, daughter,"

Adora felt a stab of guilt in her gut. She'd had parents years ago, ones she still remembered. But as Hordak always reminded her, the past is the past. "The Battle of Thaymor is concluded. Lonnie is victorious,"

"Good. I imagine Queen Angella shall send a messenger with the week,"

From the darkness came a cackling laugh. "And we shall return their head to the queen," and the Sorceress emerged, floating on wings of shadow. In her presence the fires dimmed, and Adora felt a chill enter her bones.

"It would be unwise Sorceress, to do anything so brash," Hordak was patient, in some cases too patient, though certainly not now

Adora was not overly fond of the Sorceress, she was cruel and ruthless at times, her ambition larger than even Hordak's.

"My lord, our armies are large enough and skilled enough. We would wipe the nuisance kingdom from the face of the earth within the year,"

"Our armies are required in the East. We will do this as I say we will Sorceress, or have you forgotten your place?" Hordak's growl sent ripples through the stone walls, and Adora feels the shuddering vibrations in her lungs.

"No my lord. My knowledge pales before your endless wisdom," the Sorceress bows and remains quiet.

"Adora," Hordak's gaze fell upon her.

"Yes my lord?"

"You will go to the Royal Gathering in the Kingdom of Snows, with the Sorceress' vassal as your partner,"

The confusion on Adora's face was obvious, and Hordak sighs, annoyed. "Surely you remember the Royal Gathering. You've attended the past seven years,"

"No my lord, I remember the Gathering well. But I'm unaware of the Sorceress' vassal,"

Hordak's face contorts. "You've never met the cat girl?"

"Half cat," the Sorceress supplied, quite helpfully, though Hordak glares at her.

"No my Lord," Adora tries desperately to hide her confusion. The thought of the sorceress having a vassal was at best laughable. And one that was half-cat was something else entirely.

"Then you have plenty of time to get acquainted during the journey. While there you must befriend Princess Glimmer and earn passage into Bright Moon," Hordak waves his hand dismissively, not one for giving thorough instructions, and Adora bows before turning to leave. Beside her the Sorceress does the same.

As they exit the Sorceress turns to her and speaks. "Come with me and we will go to meet my vassal," and twirled around to leave as if Adora had already agreed. She kept walking, so Adora hurried after her.

"I didn't know you had a vassal," Adora tries to make conversation. It was impolite not to after all.

"I'm aware," the sorceress said severely, no doubt attempting to discourage small talk. It didn't work on Adora though, very few things did.

"Regardless-"

"There are a great many things you do not know Princess. That won't change simply because you desire it," the Sorceress looked directly into her eyes as she spoke and Adora flinches. The whites of her eyes were webbed with light green veins.

They stop in front of a small door, no doubt made of cedar based on the smell.

The Sorceress opens the door cautiously, and the two step inside.

"Little One! Come here," the Sorceress calls, an edge of disdain tinging her voice. Adora frowns deeply. What an odd nickname for an adult she thought, looking about.

While not cluttered, the small room held various strange objects and knick-knacks, from a bundle of oak leaves to the head of a crow, and quite possibly a skeleton, though it was only half complete and shorter than the normal adult. The bones were incredibly thick however.

Adora's thoughts break as a soft padding of feet changes to a body standing in a near doorway.

"What is it?" the girl's voice was mostly relaxed but sounded much the same as a prisoner with valuable information might while bartering for their life.

Adora's breath hitches as she turns to look. When she'd heard half cat she was worried. That her face might be long, or she might walk on four legs. That she might have paws instead of hands, or only eat rodents and birds. Any number of things really.

The person in front of her was very much human, and truly breath taking.

Adora did her best not to stare, even as her mouth ran dry, but the girl's legs were long and well muscled. Hips decidedly curved, and arms that were lithe and strong. Her eyes were the most captivating however, one a deep teal, and the other a shimmering gold. Rather like a sun setting over old oceans. She could feel a blush starting to rise in her face.

It was almost enough for her to overlook the tail sweeping from side to side, and pointed ears that swiveled so smoothly. Almost. Only now did she realizes how long the girl's hair is, so much so it looks like a lion's mane.

"I'm sure you've heard of Princess Adora," the Sorceress speaks beside her, but it sounds far off.

"Of course," the girl's eyes go a little wide, looking back at Adora.

"You will be escorting her at the Royal Gathering,"

Her eyes widen even more, and she looks at the Sorceress, who was decidedly not Adora.

"Really?" she sounded surprised.

"Lord Hordak himself has commanded it. Now give Adora your name," the Sorceress speaks as if thrusting a dagger, stabbing with each phrase.

The girl flinched visibly, taking a step back and returns her gaze to Adora. She doesn't speak though, mouth twitching open and close.

"Now," the Sorceress' voice is hard with command.

"I-It's Ca-Catra," Catra stutters out, seeming to almost fight herself as she does. Confusion washes over Adora, even as a bolt of energy runs from her ears to her hands, settling in her fingers.

"Well then. The two of you will have much time to discuss while journeying to Frosta's kingdom, so Princess Adora, I must ask that you-"

"Leave us," Adora cuts the Sorceress off. The magician takes a step back aghast, and takes a moment to compose herself.

"As you command Adora," and though the Sorceress complied, her voice was hard like ironwood, with contempt in her eyes. The door clicks behind her as she leaves.

The flickering candles seem to rise up in joy, having newfound breadth of life. Adora takes a step forward, hands clenched by her side, toward the half cat half human girl named Catra. It strikes her that Catra is quite a few inches shorter than her, and might be intimidated by her presence.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Catra," Aodra decides proper civility as the best course of action. It had endured this long after all.

The girl shivers at the sound of her name, but looks Adora in the eye. "The pleasure is mine Princess Adora,"

"Don't call me that," the Princess replied, voice sharp as elephant grass. Catra ducks backward slightly, head hung low. "Just Adora is fine, please," she softens her tone as best she can.

Catra looks up again, her hands clasped together in front of her. A growing sense of dread begins to form in Adora's stomach. What on Earth did people talk about? She couldn't very well discuss warfare strategies.

"I look forward to attending the Royal Gathering with you," Catra speaks first, her voice soft.

"I am quite excited as well," Adora's tone is stiff as a board, though she was trying her best.

Catra grins across from her, showing off her extra long canines, and Adora suppresses a rush of excitement. However _unnatural_ they might be, they held the grace of a perfect blade. Something Adora could appreciate quite well.

"I'm confused as to why I haven't met you before Catra, vassal of the Sorceress,"

"Oh, the old witch has her reasons," Catra waves her hand dismissively.

"None, I should think, warrant keeping you from the light of our Court," Adora mutters, mostly by accident, but she can see Catra's ears prick tall with attention. They stand in silence for what feels like ages and Adora opens her mouth to excuse herself.

"You don't need to be so stiff. I'm not feral you know," Catra's tone is teasing as the lone breath of breeze in the dead of summer, and thoroughly trounces any worries Adora may have had.

"I'm hardly worried about that," Adora mutters back thickly. Her mind was going blank, just being around Catra. Something else was moving in her chest, something that felt like _curiosity_.

"Oh really? Then why are you so straight?" Catra steps forward, coming in close to her, stopping just a few inches away.

Adora laughed to herself I should think, and dropped her shoulders down, bending at the base of her ribcage. She was never one to back away from a challenge. Her new stance found her near eye level with Catra, noses almost touching.

"See? I can be normal too," Adora said, voice teasing.

"I would hardly call you normal," Catra shoots back, unflinching.

"Well at the the very least I'm not straight," Adora whispered, leaning just a few more centimeters farther. Catra's eyes shine for a moment as she leans in closer.

"Of that I'm quite glad." Their lips almost touch, and Adora hears Catra take a small sniff in. "But I'm afraid I have errands I must run," and Catra twists away, grinning evilly. Adora jolts back, blushing madly.

She takes another step back and steadies herself. "Until next time then, Catra," as she speaks the air quivers in between them, but she doesn't notice.

The human girl, born half cat, nods across from her, still smiling softly. Adora stands mute for a moment before nodding, and walks from the room heart still thudding between her ribs.

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As Hordak predicted a messenger did indeed come within the week. It took all seven days, but we musn't look so intently at how close we are to being wrong, only that we were right in the end.

In that time Adora had not seen Catra even once, though she tried quite often. The Sorceress had proved to be a hindrance but Adora would not make demands of her anymore than she had to. She did find it odd though, that Catra would be so well hidden. Perhaps she shouldn't have, considering she'd gone fourteen years without meeting her.

Today though, Adora stood at her father's right hand as the Sorceress stood at his left. The great oak doors, swung open, and a messenger accompanied by a soldier walked in.

"Greetings Lord Hordak! Greatest King in the Land!" the messenger shouted and bowed. "Queen Angella kindly offers her best wishes and hopes I find you in good health! We are truly grateful to be on such wonderful terms with your kingdom. Truly, if there is anything ours can offer to yours so that you may prosper more thoroughly we offer it gladly. I do however, carry a grievance from Her Majesty regarding your most recent expedition,"

Silence filled the mostly empty room, leaving it still quite empty.

"Get on with it boy," Hordak growled, and the messenger quivered slightly.

"The Queen believed your agreement guaranteed full protection to Thaymor,"

"I believe they are fully protected now,"

"Well, Lord Hordak, be that as it may. It is the belief of my kingdom that the intent was Thaymor should be protected, _and_ independent," the messenger bowed even deeper.

"I can't remember making such an agreement," Hordak bends his head backward, thinking(or at the very least pretending to).

"His Majesty agreed to such terms on my last visit... i-if memory serves correctly,"

"Of that I very much doubt. Perhaps you shall tell Queen Angella if she wishes my undivided attention she ought to send servants who are not so long winded as you are," Hordak rises in his seat, leaning forward as he speaks.

"Y-yes lord," and the servant bowed even lower, cowering against the ground.

"Please offer my apologies to her at any rate. I would not want to alienate such a prosperous trade partner. Tell her also that I would like to solidify our alliance, through any means necessary. Our daughters can discuss such things at the Royal Gathering,"

"Else I might bring her more tangible plans, my lord?"

"I have offered you a tangible deal messenger. My daughter is on quite good terms with the daughter of Angella, and they shall be able to negotiate as such. I am not quite so trusting of myself. I have a terrible habit of burning things down when I'm frustrated," Hordak stood and began walking toward the messenger. The boy began shuffling backward, eyes petrified upon the face of Hordak, but body moving of it's own volition. "I shall send you away with my fastest horse. The Gathering is in only two weeks, and Angella shall wish for time to plan,"

"Your generosity is most welcome my lord," the messenger bowed deeply once more and turned to flee from the room.

Adora stifled a laugh and left her post. "And what am I to request of Glimmer, father?"

"A seat in Angella's court," Hordak responded, back still to his two Lieutenants.

"Really?" Adora can't keep the disdain from her voice. Glimmer and Bow were good friends. Angella was kind. But Bright Moon was very much... superfluous, something she despised.

"I was unaware you desired Glimmer's hand in marriage daughter," it is thought Hordak was attempting to joke here, but his voice did not lend itself well to jesting.

"No father," Adora certainly did not want that. Marriage was something she never wished to partake in.

"Then you are left with this one option," Hordak said with the finality of clapping his hands together. "Now then. Entrapta awaits my presence in our lab," and Hordak left the throne room, humming softly to himself.

"And he speaks to me of distractions," the Sorceress grumbles, gathering sufficient shadows beneath her to move.

"A word Sorceress?" Adora spoke, entirely unsure of why she had opened her mouth.

"What is it _Princess_ Adora," the Sorceress' voice is like molasses. Barely moving, and entirely the wrong kind of sweet.

"I'd like to spend time with Catra again,"

"Oh but of course Princess. Just so long as you don't go too far. She shall find you in due time," and the Sorceress left without another word.

"So long as it is today!" Adora called loudly, and she is left alone, in the round room with two fires that never died but only truly loved half of their life.

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	3. Winds Over Dry Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhhh..........

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The Sorceress had told Catra very specifically, to not find Adora until the sun had almost set. It was galling she had so much power.

But Catra did as she was told, as she always had, still harboring thoughts of the day she'd truly met Princess Adora.

Her eyes that seemed to mix the hues of lightning and the blue of clearest sky. Her arms that seemed able to hold up the heavens themselves. Her shoulders that would have filled any doorway if she didn't fold in on herself at every opportunity. Her jaw that could cleave through diamond.

When their lips had almost touched Catra had felt electricity coursing through her veins. 

She looked stunning tonight, blonde hair seeming almost like fire in the setting sun, so long as one had the imagination for it. Not like the fire that ginger hair is, but fire all the same. Her shoulders were crunched in, like she was trying to keep out the cold, but Catra knew better. 

"Hey Adora!" she called, still padding up to the girl she was so enamored with, who turned her head slowly.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come today," and Adora's voice was small, worried, tense as a trap.

"The witch told me to wait as long as possible," Catra admitted against her instincts. The more she thought however the better the idea seemed. Honesty was best here, Catra was not necessarily her own to give.

"Hmph, I should have guessed. Sit with me?" Adora turned her gaze back out over the valley. Catra clambered up on the stone wall containing the small courtyard, settling herself near enough to Adora without actually touching her.

The view was stunning, as it ought to have been, for they sat atop a mountain overlooking a grand valley. Below them a string of villages sat along a small river that flowed from near, about, where they sat. The sound of the waterfall calmed Catra slightly, for she was nervous, perhaps as nervous as she'd ever been.

Beside her Adora inches closer, until their legs are touching from the knee down. "Is this ok?" the Princess asked, still worried but also doing as she always would.

Catra nods once and leans forward leaving her head hanging over the edge.

"What's it like? To be a vassal of the Sorceress?" Adora's question surprises her, and Catra remains quiet for a moment, putting a finger to her chin.

"Annoying really," she says with a laugh.

"Oh?" Adora was chuckling too, yet looking over at her intently.

"Well I can't call her that for starters. I'm only allowed to call her Witch. I'm to do whatever she tells me, and it's impossible for me to refuse her" Catra trails off.

"Why?" Adora leans over, obviously concerned although truth be told there wasn't much to be concerned about.

"Even if I say no, she says my name and I have to do it anyway," Catra looks up to the sky.

"Has she ever...  exploited her position of power?" Adora speaks haltingly, still looking at her. It was beautiful that she cared.

"You're an idiot, fair princess, but thank you. It's more that I have to do things servants ought to do. I have no freedom at all," Catra looked back at Adora, who was still slightly confused.

"Because she says your name?"

"Names have power Adora,"

"They can't have that much. It is just a name after all," Adora said, still dubious.

"Tell me to do something then," Catra challenges, looking Adora in the eye. 

"Jump off the cliff," Adora said without skipping a beat, and Catra holds back an urge to punch the woman.

"It can't be that,"

"Why?"

"Because when I say I won't you're going to say my name, and I'm going to have to do it anyway," Catra said small as a mouse, looking Adora in the eye. She knew full well what could happen here. All the nasty little endings. Freed from the Sorceress only to be captured by another pitiless master...

The thought doesn't bother her so much. The idea of Adora being in control was something she was at least a little interested in. Change, while terrifying, had all the allure of the most perfect gems, and an odd sense of safety came over her when Adora was near.

Adora stared back at her for quite awhile thinking. "Stay with me until midnight then,"

Catra stared back blankly. "That hardly proves the point then," she said finally.

"And why's that, vassal of the Sorceress?" Adora teases.

"I was going to anyway," Catra mutters.

Adora smiles broadly, face going red for a moment. "I'll take your word for it Catra. I hardly need a demonstration," and Catra smiles too, slightly. The Princess was in every way the woman she had hoped for.

"How was your day?" Adora fills the small void left in the air, where silence had begun to breed. Not the comfortable kind either. The nasty festering wound kind rather.

"Fine I suppose. I helped brew potions in the morning and in the afternoon I tidied up our rooms. I suppose I'm an educated maid at best,"

"I can't help but believe you have better things to do than clean," Adora replied, smiling.

"I would hope. But I've never had the time to find out," Catra admits softly.

"Do you have no free time at all?"

"Not for fourteen years Princess. I've learned magic though. It's been nice at times,"

"And the Sorceress has power over you because of your name?"

"I gave it to her as a child. But yes," Catra admits, shifting slightly toward Adora. Without the sun the air had taken a cold edge.

"You gave your name to me too though," Adora points out shyly.

Catra hums softly in agreement, leaning in closer to Adora. She radiated warmth like the sun, a stark contrast to the fall night air.

"I'd like to see you, at least once, everyday until we leave for the Gathering," Adora said quite out of the blue, and Catra looked at her dumbfounded. A sinking feeling of disappointment fills her. 

"I can't Adora, the witch-"

"Catra," Adora said breathlessly, like wind over dry snow. The air shimmered, anointed with power.

A deep sense of relief flooded through Catra as she sat there beneath the stars, with a woman she had not even known a week prior. A smile grows across her face, and she leans her head against Adora's shoulder, breathing deeply.

Adora's scent was unlike anything she had ever known. A mix of a great many things I should think. Ozone and the sweet scent of leaves rotting in fall. The crashing tide upon stone beaches. An oncoming storm and the first frost of fall. Pressed cider and fresh cinnamon. We could speak for days if I'm honest, all we know for sure is that it was intoxicating.

Catra began to purr without realizing, eyes closing slowly. She never failed to feel safe around Adora though she was quite certain the blonde could kill mountains without much effort. That could've been the reason though I suppose.

Adora laughs softly, shoulders shaking slightly underneath. Catra hmphs in annoyance, and the movement stops.

She's vaguely aware of being scooped up into someone's arms and the gentle rocking of a person's gait. When she's set down in a bed and the arms leave her she growls faintly, hands flailing to find that wonderful sense of warmth.

Whoever it is (though she knows who it is and exactly why she won't let go) lets out a small noise of concern and somewhere Catra's subconscious laughs, but it works as Adora slides into bed next to her, avidly avoiding physical contact. 

Catra flops over with an mph and lets out a soft contented purr as she snuggles into the hearth she's sharing a bed with. The last fading bits of conscious thoughts flutter through her head, and soon she's dreaming.

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End file.
